


Lines of Fear and Blame

by thecat_13145



Series: How to Save a Life [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rape, Rape Aftermath, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky First Mission as the Winter Soldier was an attack on Howard Stark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Avengers Kink prompt "Right after WWII, when the WS still clearly looked (and acted) more like Bucky his handlers sent him on his first overseas mission ~ Howard Stark. It was a test to see if the WS would hurt someone Bucky had considered a friend, and to see if the WS could follow orders well enough to inflict serious suffering without killing the target. The WS assaults/non-cons Howard until he's a beaten and traumatized, barely conscious, mess. "  
> Original Fill here http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19994.html?thread=48241946#t48241946

Compared to the rest of the year, Los Alamos in April might be cooler, but compared to Europe, and Britain in particular, it still was hot.

Howard Stark ran his finger around the back of his collar, trying to ease it away from his neck and looked down again at the blueprints in front of him. 

Outside the temperature might have dropped as night fell, but inside the concrete and steel labs where they worked, the Mercury didn’t drop much below 80. Hence why he was still here.

He made a couple of notes on the blueprints, mentally shaking his head. Did these guys realise that their plutonium mixture had to sit along side a couple of tons of explosives and preferably not run the risk of blowing up the plane mid-air?

He’d wanted nothing to do with god dammed project. Had told Oppenheimer where to go when he first came sniffing around for him. Had told Philips what he could do with his transfer orders.

“Ain’t my call Stark.” Philips had said. “Heck, I already told command that I didn’t want to lose you. Only guy I’ve got who understands the tech half as well as you do is Zemo and…” he trails off, because Zemo and the deals they’re making behind the scene isn’t really something they want to discuss. “But these orders come from the top.” His eyes bored into Stark, as he added. “From the very top.”

So he’s here, bitching all the way, and all he can say is that at least they don’t want him to work on the bomb. No, they just want him to find a way to deliver it.

Oppenheimer and the rest are all geniuses, couple of them even thinking above Howard’s levels. He’s had more conversations about Science in the last two weeks than he’s had in the last three years. And if sometimes he thinks wistfully of conversations about the diameter of Ingrid Bergman’s waist or whether Princess Elizabeth or Vivien Leigh is hotter (with a couple of British voices declaring that comparing a princess to a commoner is treason), well there’s nothing odd about that.

Howard’s not like these guys. They’re theorists, brilliant minds, but not weapon designers. And Howard Stark Junior has being actively designing weapons since he was 14.

Just wish the place wasn’t so fucking hot. It would be easier if they could work in their undershirts, like the Soldiers do, but  
No, he’s the senior man here, so he’s supposed to be setting an example!

Normally, he’d tell them where to stuff it, but Brown and Smith are too young for the draft, Cooper seems too young, Hofstadter blushes whenever a WAC enters the room and Koothrappali has a hard enough time fitting in. Kid’s a brilliant scientist and the son of a Maraj or something, but he’s still not allowed to sit at the same table with the rest of the staff.

Howard flung the table they had set up for Kothrappali over on the first day here and so far no one’s dared to restore it since.

He heard a creak as the door opened and lifted his head up.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

The sign declared “What you see here Who you do here, what you hear here, when you leave here, let it stay here.”

Maria put her foot down, forcing the car to pick up speed. She’d passed three signs warning her that she was in a restricted area in a half hour. 

A check point reared up in front of her and she slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt as the soldiers aimed their weapons at her.

“Maria Collins Carbonell” She said, lowering her sunglasses as she handed over her identity card. “I have an appointment With Mr Stark.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

It was the picture that did it.

Howard Stark in shirt and tie, smiling at the world from the picture in the Smithsonian. 

That same smile.

He couldn’t remember when the picture was taken. He could just remember the last time he’d seen that smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky?” Howard stared at the figure standing in the door way. 

The figure made no response, only stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. The hair was longer and wilder, the face thinner, more ragged, but with the fluocent tubes beaming down on him, there was no mistaking the figure. Sergeant James Buchan Barnes stood only a few feet from him.

“Bucky.” Howard couldn’t help it, his face broke into a huge grin. “What happened? When did you get back stateside? The others with you?”

The figure remained standing, watching him. It was an unfamiliar look, not the glares Howard had got used to in the first few weeks after the rescue, or the cautious friendship that had followed that. This was colder, more like a cat watching a mouse.

And slowly, Howard began to realise other things. Like that no civilian, no matter what the circumstances would be allowed this far into a restricted section without a guard. That there’s something off, that’s the only way he can put it about the way Bucky’s standing. That the normal sounds of the guards as they do their patrols aren’t there. That the click he heard when the door shut was the click of the lock.

He took an uncertain step forward.

“Bucky?” He asked. “Come on James. Stop kidding around.”

Bucky had always favoured his arms, used to using his size to intimidate, to overpower an opponent. A life time of pulling Bullies off Steve, Howard had always theorised.

This time, it was the legs. A kick to the stomach which flung him back against the table.

As Howard Struggled to his feet, the other man moved forward, physically lifting him off the ground.

“Whose Bucky?” He demanded his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. 

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

“With Respect, Professor Opinhiemer, you’ve told me nothing.” Maria gazed around the room, tapping her cigarette out the ash tray. Both the soldiers and scientists were watching her like she was some form of dangerous animal. Normally she wouldn’t care, but at the moment, this is preventing her from getting to Howard. 

She held up her hand as the guy to his right (General at least 2 stars by the way he was standing) opened his mouth. “And to be perfectly honest, if it’s not classified, then I’d rather hear what happened from Howard.” She took another drag of her cigarette. “You can answer a couple of questions for me. IS what ever happened likely to be fatal?”

You can’t keep rumours about places like this under wraps. She’s already heard that three of the women hear lost their men within a week after accidents, even though when they came home they looked fine. They kept referring to what ever happened as an incident rather than an accident, which is making her more nervous. Incidents suggest someone is to blame, something shameful. 

“Not necessarily.”

“That isn’t an answer Professor.”

“Then No. No, it shouldn’t be.”

Maria felt herself relax slightly. If It wasn’t likely to kill Howard, then in spite of his contacting her, in spite of everything, it couldn’t be too bad. 

“Are his hands hurt?”

They look surprised, but the answer is honest. “a couple of bones broken, some bruises.” The doctor shrugged. “Nothing that won’t physically heal.”

Maria nodded, feeling calmer. It would heal, Hoard would still be able to work, though she suspected he was driving the medics nuts currently.

“Does it compromise his security clearance?”

There’s a pause this time before the General says “At the moment, it’s unclear.”

That wasn’t so good. Maria bit on her lip. “Thank you for being honest with me.” She said firmly. “I’d like to see Howard now.”

She got to her feet, smiling internally as the men hurriedly rose with her, a couple almost tripping over the folding chairs in their eagerness to get rid of this fox in their hen house.

She’d got to the door, when she was aware of someone standing beside her. Different, more smooth than the rest. Either SOE or one Hoover’s boys, she can’t tell which.

“Miss Carbonell” he said and she turned to get a better look at him. Smooth, light brown hair carefully waved, blue eyes, not ice blue that most people find disconcerting. No, these were dark blue, the colour a deep river and hiding just as much. “I’m Agent Pierce. Mind if I walk with you?”

She mentally revised her accession to SOE. Hoover’s boys wouldn’t have being so obvious. 

He apparently took her lack of reply as consent and held the door open. Maria stepped outside, feeling the heat slacken slightly out of the tin shed. 

“I just thought you ought to be aware before you talk to him that Mr Stark isn’t helping his own case.”

Maria managed not to snort, not just because it wouldn’t have being lady like, but because it would have given too much away to Agent Piece. Since when had Howard ever done anything to help himself?

“He is insisting that his attacker was one Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, of Irish 119.”

Maria shrugged. “And?” She asked. “Lord only knows agent Pierce, it wouldn’t the first time one of our boys had being shown to be less than pure.”

She’s spent her whole life around Soldiers. In her job as her father’s secretary, she reads the communications coming back from Burma and Japan, mostly complaints from the British about how the Japanese have completely ignored the rules of war, but also complaints that their American Allies haven’t being too particular about observing the rules regarding prisoners. She knows that soldiers can be guilty of rape, murder and massacres as bad as the enemy they’re fighting. She thinks of the images coming back from Russia soldiers in Poland and Germany and amends her thoughts, maybe not quite as bad. 

Pierce’s face twitched slightly. “Sergeant Barnes died fighting for his Country in Italy in 1943.” He said firmly.

They had reached the hospital, a concrete and corrugated iron building, only distinguished from the others in the complex by the Red Cross on a board outside. Maria smiled sweetly.

“As I said, Agent Pierce, I’d like to hear what happened from Howard. But if your superiors are wondering what my opinion with out the details is, then I can only misquote Mark Twain. Rumours of his death may have being greatly exaggerated.”

She hurried up the three steps to the door, enjoying a moment of triumph at the openly sour expression on Agent Pierce’s face.

//*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

He’s dimly aware of someone beside him, a voice asking if he’s alright, but he can’t reply. The edge of the board is rapidly becoming powder in his hands, but he can’t help it. He just keeps gripping,.

Dimly, he was aware of someone swearing, demanding that “Someone call Stark. This shit is his business!” and all he can think of is that he can’t see Stark, he can’t face him.


	3. Chapter 3

Howard Stark, contrary to all appearances is no slouch as a fighter. 

You can’t grow up as an Italian American on New York’s Lower East side and not learn to fight and a life time of bullies had seen that Howard Stark Junior could look after himself in a fight.

He’d taken additional training when he was part of Philips crew, first in the States, when he’d gone hand to hand against some of Erksine’s potential subjects, and then later in Britain with the Commandoes. He’d never be as good as them, he accepted that, but against most ordinary opponents, Howard Stark could hold his own.

Of course, it was fairly obvious that anyone who’d managed to get this far on to a classified US Military base without the alarm being raised was not an ordinary opponent, but Howard was nothing if not an optimist. 

He didn’t know what was going on with Barnes, but he knew he had to take him down or at least stop him. The stuff in this room…in the right hands he wasn’t sure what history was going to have to say about them, but he doubted it would be anything good. 

“I don’t know what the hell got into you, Barnes.” He said, almost jumping up, his fists raised. “But I can’t let you_OOOPh” 

This time it was a fist to his stomach, followed rapidly by an upper cut that left his left arm numb. The face was twisted in a smile as it looked him.

“I don’t know any Barnes.” He said.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

The hospital was about the only building on the entire base that Maria could be sure was exactly what it said it was. The metal bedsteads and crisp white sheets were laid out identically to the hundreds of others she’d visited, normally followed by a camera crew to record the daughter of New York’s 2nd Richest man “doing her bit”.

The nurses had the same cheery smiles that showed white teeth beneath identical red lipstick. She briefly wondered if the US Army required them to wear it. If there was some regulation on lip stick for it’s nurses. It would have surprised her. She gave her name to the woman sitting at the next to the entrance.

The woman smiled and began nervously fumbling through the cards. It was fairly obvious she didn’t do this regularly and Maria was about to repeat herself when a voice suddenly called out “Maria.”

There were two beds surrounded by curtains and Maria could see Howard standing, leaning really against the frame of the one furthest from her.

The nurses rushed over, berating their patient for getting out of bed so early, but Howard ignored them and continued to stare at Maria.

Wishing she’d had a moment to check her makeup or her hair, Maria walked rapidly over. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d come. Wasn’t sure they’d deliver my message.”

Maria shrugged. “When New York’s Most eligible bachelor sends a girl an invitation to meet him at a top secret government base, what’s a girl supposed to do?” She stared at him and added, “Though I think the Times might want their award back, fi they saw you now.”

“I’ll have you know I always looks debonair and sophisticated, Miss Carbonell.”

Howard, in truth looked terrible. Those parts of his face that weren’t either a blackish purple or a sickly green yellow colour were unhealthily pale and despite her presence and the nurses, he hadn’t let go of the screen frame, like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. The other arm is in a sling and there’s a bandage around his right knee.

Maria had a life time’s experience of forcing a smile on her face as she said. “I’m afraid we must have different definitions of debonair and sophisticated.” 

Howard’s smile cracked a little. “Yeah.” He glanced at her again. “You brought your car? You got gas?”

“Yes and No.” Maria tried desperately to make a joke. “But I have enough gasoline for this trip. And possibly a little sightseeing.”

“That’s swell.” Howard grinned. “Care to take me out of here? I’d offer to drive but…” He indicated the sling. Maria smiled. 

“I told you, Mr Stark, I don’t let any man drive me.”

“Swell.” A man in a white coat was looking at them, like he was considering objecting. Howard rolled his eyes. “Oh come on Tommy, what do you think I’m gonna do? Force the car off a cliff?”

“General Groves has forbidden you to leave the base while the investigation is ongoing.” “Tommy” Swallowed. “And as a doctor, I have to agree with him. You’re in no shape to be traipsing out in the desert. You shouldn’t even be out of bed.”

Howard’s eyes were fireballs at the other man. “Maybe I wanna have a conversation with the lady, who is a real personal friend, if you get my drift without the whole of the goddam project knowing about it.”

“And you know that’s impossible.” The doctor sighed. “You can use my office. I can’t promise Groves hasn’t bugged it, but…”

“Thank you” Maria interrupted. “I suppose some coffee might be too much to hope for?” She smiled at him. Tommy flushed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She could feel Howard rolling his eyes, but he released his death grip on the screen and started to limp towards the back of the room.

Maria followed in silence, but she couldn’t help noticing that his legs were wide apart. Like a sailor newly arrived on land, who didn’t trust that the ground would remain steady beneath his feet.

*/*/*/**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

It’s not Howard.

Rationally, of course, he knows that. Knows that Howard has being dead for nearly 30 years.

It’s his son, Anthony Edward Stark, prefers to be known as Tony.

Everyone comments on the similarities between them, but currently all he can see if the differences and its about the only thing that’s keeping him sane. 

“Sorry,” he manages to gasp out, unable to let go of the edge of the table. “So sorry.”


	4. Chapter 4

He was going to die.

Howard had never believed the commandoes when they said that that could be a peaceful thought, reassuring almost. He’d always figured he’d fight against it, as he’d done everything else, but lying on the floor, his chest in agony, it was vaguely comforting.

The only question that was really bothering him was why he wasn’t already dead.

Howard had seem Barnes kill before. He knew the other man preferred it to be quick and clean. Less risk that way.

But this guy, this Barnes, seemed to be playing with him, like a cat with a mouse, giving him just enough time to recover, enough space to try and pull away, to try and escape and then raking him back.

He wondered briefly if Barnes could do this because he didn’t need to fear detection. That everyone else at the base was dead, but dismissed it.

Barnes was good, but killing just over 2,500 people, with nobody raising the alarm was impossible. Help would come, eventually.

Just the question was whether he would be around to appreciate it. 

He glanced up into the thin face, trying to find anything, any sign of the Seargent he had known, the man Steve Rogers had being proud to call his friend.

The smile was that of a wolf’s.

Howard tried to pull himself up, to pull himself away, but his arm just couldn’t hold his weight. His knee was throbbing so bad that for a moment he must have blacked out, because suddenly Barnes was kneeling beside him, staring into his face.

“Still with us?” He asked. The voice was wrong, all traces of a Brooklyn accent gone. “Good.”

Howard was about to ask why again, when Barnes stood up. Howard braced his body instinctively for another blow, but the only sound was that of a zipper being undone.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Howard collapsed into Dr Thomas Wayne’s chair, with a wince that Maria pretended she didn’t see.

It was evident that standing and sitting were equally painful, and Howard just had to choose which one was the most bearable for the time being.

She pretended to check her makeup in the small mirror on the wall, watching as Howard shifted so that he was sprawled in a method that she would have said could not usually be comfortable, but seemed to be to Howard.

“Thanks for coming.” Howard said, as she sat down in the chair opposite, the desk in between them. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

Maria can believe that. Howard’s parents are both dead and he’s not in touch with anyone from the old neighbourhood. Most of the friends he has, including Obadiah, are either in Europe or in the East now, out of reach.

“What happened?” She asked, digging in her purse for cigarettes. She can’t stand them, not really, but it’s something to do with her hands, something to focus on other than Howard’s bruises. “All your note said was that you’d being injured.”

Howard snorted, holding out his hand for a cigarette. “What did they tell you?”

Maria raised an eyebrow as she lit first Howard’s cigarette and then her own. “Virtually nothing. Said a lot about compromised security, about the work here being of the up most importance to the war effort and top top secret.” She took a dag and watch Howard closely. “Only one who gave me any definite information was an too clean oik called Piece. He said that you said that an Seargent of the 119 was involved. A man that they believe is dead.”

Howard slumped forward, his head resting in his hands. “I was in the lab.” He whispered. “I was working late.” He shook his head. “The guys here, they can calculate pie to 200 places, but they can’t design a delivery mechanism worth shite.”

“I can’t do either,” Maria commented. Howard lifted his head slightly to grin at her. “You could if you wanted.”

Maria smiled. “So you were working late. Alone, I presume?” 

Howard doesn’t like anyone near him when he’s working. She overheard him telling Obadiah once that people make noise, even when they’re not talking, that they make noise just by existing and that it’s distracting. In his car, in his home, Howard plays hot jazz so loudly that it hurts your ears. In his workshop though, everything is silent and neat. 

Howard nodded. “Yeah, Brown and Cooper had left a couple of hours before, Smith and Hofstadter had gone into town and Koothrappali…” He shook his head. “He’d gone. I don’t remember where.” He snorted, looking at his hands. “Don’t remember a lot, actually. Just bits.”

“It’s not uncommon with head injuries.” Maria agreed gently. Howard shook his head. “Yeah, that’s what Tommy and others tell me. That I shouldn’t worry too much about it. But how can I not when…” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ have asked you to come.” He looked down at his hands again, picking at a scab on his index finger. “You should know that, that after this, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever get a security clearance.”

“That doesn’t worry me.” Maria said, feeling more and more uneasy. “What happened Howard?”

Howard abandoned the scab and ran his fingers though his hair, as she continued. “You were working late, the others had left the lab, you were alone. Then what happened?”

“The door opened.” Howard’s hand suddenly formed a fist. “I’m an idiot. Certifiable lunatic. I should have known that no one could have got in without an escort.” He gazed right though Maria. “He was just standing there.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

“O.K. Buddy,” Stark was dressed formally, conservatively. He must have interpreted some company business, because he couldn’t come up with any other explanation. “We get that you’re sorry. So you wanna let go of the table top?”

It’s order, though it’s phrased as a question and his muscles obey before he can think. The powder falls through his fingers like sand and inside of his head a voice is laughing that it is this mission rather than any other that has sent him off.

Not fighting Steve, not almost killing him, not killing Stark. No, there is no need for him to feel guilty about that. All he did then was kill Stark’s body. He destroyed him nearly 40 years earlier.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this is fairly graphic, please don't read if you have any triggers

Howard coughed, spitting out the blood stained rag that had formed a makeshift gag and tried desperately to get an idea of what was going on.

He remembered feeling, rather than seeing a knife split his pants, feeling a cold hand caressing the gap between his ass cheeks and then a sudden shooting pain so bad that he screamed, lashed out and passed out all within a few seconds.

His attacker (he couldn’t think of it as Barnes, not any more), had waited until he came around and then proceeded to stab him again and again. Pride had been abandoned long ago and he had wept, begged him to stop, but the only response had being a filthy rag stuffed into his mouth. 

He had being fighting between the scream in his mouth, the vomit from his stomach and the gag forcing both back into him, when suddenly it had stopped.

Only it hadn’t, not really.

Howard knows how things work between men, even when it’s unwilling and it hasn’t happened yet. His attacker has suddenly pulled out of him, with a scream that seemed worse than Howard’s a few moments ago. 

Turning his head, and squinting, he could see his attacker (Barnes) standing, his head in his hands, wring them through his hair. 

His lips are moving. He might be saying something, but Howard can’t hear the noises, can’t understand him.

He’s lost a lot of blood. 

There’s not much on the floor, but he can feel it, running down the back of his legs. 

It’s cold.

The small part of his brain that’s still functioning, still thinking, recognises that he’s going into shock. That he needs urgent medical attention or he’s going to die.

That’s why he reaches out towards his attacker. Because he’s the only one there and aren’t there rules about this sort of thing, even in War? He remembers Steve or it might have being Brian going on about it. 

It’s not because with that looks of panic and wring hands that it becomes clearer that it is Barnes, because Howard dealt with this before in his workshop, because it was about the only place Steve wasn’t going to go looking for him. The only place it was O.K. to completely break down. 

He’s reaching out to Barnes because he needs help and Barnes is the only person there. The only oen who can provide it.

He should, he thinks absentmindedly, as his hand makes contact with the edge of a boot (black army style, he notes absent mindly), have remembered what Obie told him when he first shipped out. 

“Don’t reach for anyone when you’re on the ground.”

*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

“Howard!” 

It was normal to not have a clue what was going on inside Howard’s head. It was even normal for the other man to stop mid sentence, staring at something only he could see or understand.

What was not normal was the expression on Howard’s face. It scared Maria and it took a heck of a lot to do that.

“What happened?”

Howard reached across to the box of cigarettes on his desk. Maria had grown up around enough veterans to recognise the attempts to hide his fumbling hands. “What happened?” He managed to retrieve a cigarette from the box and she offered him a light.

“What happened is at 2000 hrs, Sergeant Jones was approached at the edge of the base by an unknown man, wearing an US Army uniform. White male, early to late twenties, unknown to him. The man asked him for a cigarette, and that’s the last thing Jones remembers until he was found by a patrol. Appears to have incapacitated with some form of pressure point. Same thing happened to Corporals Armstrong and Lance and Private Blackwood. They were approached and non lethally incapacitated. When Doctor Koothrappali surprised the intruder, the guy exited through a window, rather than fight him. He seems to have known what he was aiming for and did so with minimal casualties and even less violence.”

“Except for you” Maria said, carefully taking into account Howard’s injuries.

Howard’s face twisted again. “Except for me.” He agreed. “ Me, he beat to within an inch of my life and…” He swallowed. “Assaulted.”

Maria was about to ask what exactly he meant by differentiating between the two. Then she remembered Howard’s strange way of walking and things, jokes and stories that she’s overheard. Guards and guys alike always think she’s deaf because she’s a woman. Or that she won’t understand what they’re talking about.

Maria Collins Carbonell may look like an angel in some religious painting, but she was a teenager in New York at the height of Prohibition. That wonderful act had brought her into contact with things her parents would never acknowledge, even if they knew about, things that shocked her at the time, however much she pretended nonchalance. Obie’s…tastes, had also taken her into the underbelly of the city.

“They can’t think…” She trailed off. It’s the army and the secret service, coupled with Hoover’s boys. Their logic on such issues, particularly where guys who they already have suspicions about (Howard’s friendship with Obie is no secret and Howard enjoys annoying those in authority too much), is tenuous at best. “That’s crazy”

Howard smiled bitterly. “Groves did point out that it looks personal.”

“I’ll agree with him on that,” Maria said, waving her cigarette about. “but it means very little. Didn’t The Times say Goering has offered $2000 for the man who brings him news of your death?”

“It was L.A. Today and Himmler”

“Precisely” Maria shook her head. “There’s nothing to suggest that it was…personally personal.” It’s not the best ending she can offer, at least here in a room that they’re not entirely sure isn’t bugged. 

“Groves disagrees.”

Maria frowned. “Groves needs to be careful. He’s only brigadier general, for all he likes to strut around. And you…You’re Howard Stark.”

Howard smiled, "My reputation is already made. It is yours that depends on the outcome of the Manhattan Project."

At Maria’s confused expression, he explained. “Something Lawerence said to Groves when they were first introduced. Tried to intimidate him.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “A nobel prize winning scientist?”

Howard shrugged. “Groves wasn’t happy to have me here, think he’d like it to be all guys like Teller, who seem to believe that all the problems of the world can be solved with a big enough bomb.”

Maria nodded slowly. “That’s what you’re doing here, building a bomb?” She wasn’t surprised. A death ray sounds like it belongs in a Buck Rogers serial, and that’s the most sensible suggestion she’s heard.

Maria is technically a certified genius, one of the few people who even can keep up with Howard. Unfortunately she’s also a girl. Even when Howard suggested her for Project Rebirth, the most she was offered was doing the filing.   
Maria had refused. She could do the filing at her father’s office, and Howard wasn’t enough of fool to tempt her there. He admires her brains, shares his ideas and gives her full credit for hers, but he knows that the rest of the world won’t let do that, not yet at any rate. 

Howard’s eyes snorted. “A bomb.” Something dark comes over his face and he withdrew, that was the only word she had for it. Howard’s body might still be in the chair, but his mind was somewhere else. “That’s one word for it.”

“What would you call it then?”

His eyes caught hers darkly. “reinventing the gun.”

“Sounds fantastic.” Howard didn’t respond, so Maria sighed. “What do you want me to do?”

She’s not naïve enough to think Howard asked her here for any other reason. He wanted support, help even, but he’s also smart enough to realise exactly how much trouble he’s in and that Maria is probably the only person he knows in the States who has enough clout to be able to fix it. To get Donovan’s and Hoover’s boys off his back. To deal with Grooves.

Howard cares about her, same as he cares about Obadiah, but it’s as much as Howard can care. Genius when it comes to most things, but as Obie had told her when he’d first introduced them, “A complete and utter idiot when it comes to human beings”

If Howard tries to fix this on his own, he will undoubtedly make the situation worse. A lot worse, if she knows Howard. 

“Grooves doesn’t want any trouble.” Howard stubbed out his cigarette and lit another. “Project is too close to completion and it’s his ass on the line if anything goes wrong. What Grooves wants is this nasty incident swept away, preferably with Howard Stark.”

“And you want me to stop the second half of that?”

Howards fingers beat a nervous tatoo. “I can’t be blue ticketed. Or section 9, or whatever else they use. It would destroy the company.”

And that’s all Howard and Obie really care about. 

“O.K.”

“O.K.?” Howard raised an eyebrow and Maria smiled to herself. Howard really was an almost complete innocent in politics. It was one of the things she liked about him. Maria is Machiavellian by temperament. 

“As you said, Grooves doesn’t want trouble.” She smiled. “And you know Mr Stark, Trouble is my speciality.”

She got to her feet and paused. “What the identity of the attacker? Are you sure, 100%, that it was this sergeant Barnes?”

Howard paused. “I thought it was Barnes.” He said softly, “But the guy I knew, he wouldn’t have done anything like that.”

“War changes people.” Her father had being a handsome man, who had wooed and charmed an English socialite into marriage. Her memories of him were of an abusive bully whose only redeeming quality was a desire that his daughters should be even more successful than he was. 

“Not that much.” Howard glanced her. “I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember much.”

It was the first definite lie he’d told her in the interview. “O.K.” she’d let it lie for now. later on she’d tackle Howard about it, but now there were more important things to do. “Anything I can get you?”

Howard shrugged. “Some paper?” He asked. “Feel like my brain is trying to claw it’s way out of my skull and they get upset if I use the charts.”

“I wonder why.” She smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”  
She stubbed out her cigarette, giving Howard a moment of privacy to haul himself to his feet. 

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

He’s not sure what he’s expecting. Some form of cell, like the ones at SHIELD. Or maybe the exact opposite of the ones at SHIELD, white lights and bright walls that make it too bright to think. 

Tony Stark has being tortured. And he’s Howard’s Son.

Instead he’s in a room which just …is.

There’s no furniture in it. The lighting levels are those of a normal office environment. The door has being painted so that it blends perfectly into the wall.

There’s no two way mirror, no cameras, no bugs of any description really. At least none that you can see, because he is Howard’s son and it was always stupid to underestimate Howard.

he moved into the centre of the room and stood still, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. He waits.

there’s no clock in the room and he doesn’t have a watch on. He’s just going to have to wait.

Tony Stark is Howard’s son. But the Howard he knew was never that vicious.  
He wonders if Howard changed after. Or if this is just Tony


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for slight period typical racism and sexism. Howard does not approve, if that helps. Also trigger warnings for Medical shock, emotional shock and me being very mean to Howard. Worst thing is, I'm not sure how to fix him, but I have to start soon.

“Mr Stark…” The Oxford accented vows trailed off. Koothrappali is the product of English Boarding schools and English Universities. He is unfailingly polite, even to the idiots who try to make him eat beef or call him nigger. 

He would never pause like that in the middle of a sentence. 

Howard managed to raise his head up. He didn’t think what he looked like. What this must look like. 

He just knew he needed to warn Koothrappali. He needed to make him raise the alarm. 

“Ra_” He managed but Barnes is quicker, he’s moving towards Koothrappali. The Indian shifted himself into a boxer’s stance, his hands raised in careful fists. 

Barnes actually looked amused. Like he finds this funny. Perhaps he does. After all to have got here, he’s got to have taken out at least five or six guards.

Koothrappali doesn’t stand a chance, and probably even the other man knows it. But he’s prepared to try and stop this man from leaving.

Barnes is smiling and for a moment, Howard wondered if Barnes was going to do to Koothrappali what he did to him. The thought forces him to move. To drag his broken beaten body a few yards forward.

He’s not sure what he’s going to do. What he can do.

But Barnes turned his head, to look at him. 

His lip curled up in disgust.

Before either Howard or Koothrappali could act, before they could even think, Barnes was running across the room, jumping like a rabbit on to the bench and crashing through the window.

“What on earth was that?” Koothrappali demanded, walking like an automaton over to the window. “Is this some form of test, Mr Stark? Mr Stark?”

Howard’s arms couldn’t support him anymore. he dropped forward.

His head was spinning, but there was nothing but pain.

“Mr Stark?” dimly he feels a hand touch along his back, almost immediately being jerked away. “Mr Stark!”

The blackness rushed over him and he let it. dimly, he could hear someone a long away away calling

“HELP! For God’s sake somebody help us!”

************

There was no discussion that Howard would owe her one for this. 

In fact, if she was honest, Maria suspected that they both knew what the price of her co-operation was, Howard was just, like any good businessman, letting her choose the terms of payment. 

He’d propose to her, of course, but it would be at a time and manner of her choosing. 

She’d known she would eventually marry Howard, ever since Obadiah introduced them. That had, after all, being the terms of the blood pact they swore at 13, just after the first time Obadiah's father had sent him away.

That Obadiah would either marry Maria himself or find her a better husband. 

Howard would be a very good husband, at least from a practical point of view. He was ambitious, but limited. Among the social book sect, Howard could pass, but that wasn’t the prize he’d set his eyes on. Howard wanted to be accepted by what most people called society. By the oldest families in the countries, the ones where religion and nationality mattered less than blood and good taste. Howard could at least fake the former (that was all a lot of them did after all), but he lacked the latter. Maria would be his ticket in.

Maria knew she would also bring money into the business. She was her father’s only surviving child, his heir apparent. the Carbonell fortune is not to be sniffed at, even in the circles Howard naturally moves, where millions are the only acceptable unit of currency. 

She’ll bring contacts and contracts too, both of them more valuable than mere cash. Maria is on first name terms with most of the Chiefs of staff, both in America and in Britain. She’s grown up along side their daughters and danced with their sons at her coming out ball. 

She’s intelligent too, at least Howard’s equal. Howard, for all his reputation and appearances to the contrary, likes intelligent women. They have to be beautiful too, of course, and If Hetty Lemar wasn’t so against a remarriage, Maria would have acknowledged that she’d have a battle on her hands.

Certainly none of the other women have come close.

Howard respects her mind, but she knows that it’s a partial respect. Howard will give her limited credit for any idea, but that’s more than most men will give her. They’ve collaborated on a couple of projects, most theoretical work, and Howard has always insisted that her name is on the paper. last, no matter what her contribution to the ideas, but it’s more than most will give. 

Howard also likes her as a friend, respects her wit and her sense of humor. She can make him laugh, can match him in a double entendre, as they proved at some deery party that Joanne Queen was throwing, where their conversation was completely innocent and filthy in the same breath.

There’s something about Howard too, some spark that leads her to suspect that even if he was a humble engineer, she’d risk it all on a quick fling with him. She couldn’t consider marry him of course, it’s only Stark Industries that means she can consider making a more permanent arrangement, but she’d certainly have some fun with him and to hell with the consequences. 

Obadiah had seen that too, remarking after he introduced them, that he was putting a match next to a barrel of dynamite and hoping that what rose from the ashes of the explosion would be worth it.

She smiled to herself. Obadiah was a born kingmaker and he was playing a longer game than either of them. 

Howard Stark and Stark Industries are remarkable. With Maria’s help, Howard can achieve the lack of notoriety, of familiarity which others have to wait decades to achieve. 

The question is simply one of time. Their bargain can’t be too obvious.

Climbing the steps to Grove’s office, Maria nodded to herself. 1955 would be a good year to marry. 

***********

He’s not sure how long he stays in the room.

It could be a few hours, it could be a few days. When he was the Winter Soldier, he could tell, but it doesn’t seem important any more. Nothing really does

Food appears at one point, and he eats, Hydra training taking over where that’s concerned. It doesn’t seem to be drugged, but he’s not sure if he’s grateful for that or not. 

He just waits until Stark, Tony, enters.

“Your buddy, Steve,” He said, sitting down on the chair at the table. “He’s confirmed you’re not a ghost, or at least not a fantasist, which is good.”

He nodded. “Have you told him where I am yet?”

Tony shook his head.

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you.” He’s not surprised at that, not really. Steve always had a talent for making friends, but Tony shatters that with his next words. “I want to know what you know. You said you were sorry. For what?”

The question he had been dreading, but it deserved a truthful answer.

“I destroyed my best friend.”

“Steve Rogers?” Tony shook his head. “Look buddy, you gave it your best shot, not denying that. Or that you’ve come closer than anyone for a long time, but Steve’s not dead.”

The confusion was, he supposed, inevitable. Even he would have being hard pressed to say which man he was closest to. 

“Not Steve.” He said, “Howard.”


	7. Chapter 7

The world came back in a rush of pain and light. Medics, Tommy Wayne, pushing poking, apologizing as their hands hit bruises, tore at clotting blood. 

Then it was Groves, Piece, Fazackerley, there might have being more. A babble of white noise, questions that didn’t make any sense.

He blamed the concussion that it took him 2 days to realise what they were saying. What they kept hinting at.

No one actually says it, but he knows they hope he doesn’t make it. In these circumstances, a body is lot easier to explain than a breach of security. 

Howard Stark has never backed down from a challenge. His jaw is still sore, it will be at least a week before he can manage solid foods, but when Piece asks for about the 20th time for a description of his attacker, he takes the pen that Tommy’s left and writes down four words.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

It’s another day before he realises that might have not being the smartest thing. Normal people haven’t calculated the angles, the forces, don’t understand that it’s perfectly possible that Barnes survived the fall. 

It’s even probable, if only just. 

It’s 6 days after the incident that he calls Maria.

*********

“I don’t think I_”

“Then let me spell it out for you.” Maria lent back in her chair, tapping her cigarette softly against the pencil pot. “It’s an open secret that your boss is going to retire as soon as the war is over. It’s also no secret, Agent Piece, that you think you’re the person to replace him.”

Piece lent back as well, “I’ve been organising things here for the last year, got two years experience at Fort Leigh before that and 3 in Washington_”

“And being that is what’s going to hang you.” Maria smiled, what Obadiah called her fox smile. “The incident at Project Rebirth didn’t reflect well on you and these days Granger is too busy fighting to avoid being detained, after that American to help you. This project is leaking like a sieve. The Russians are well aware of what we’re up to and of how far we’ve got.”

“The Russians are our allies.”

Maria snorted. “For how long?” She rushed on before he could reply. “And then there’s uglier rumours. Rumours that Hydra also know what we’re up against.”

“Hydra is dead.”

Maria smiled. “Neither of us believe that.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds, before Maria continued. “You’re jointly responsible for security here. At the last the project where you were jointly responsible, a Nazi, or at least that was the official line, agent managed to break in and murder Dr. Eckiene. At this one, an enemy agent breaks in and beats a top scientist on the project half to death.” She shrugged. “Some people might say that’s a heck of coincidence.”

“That’s all it is.”

“I wonder.” Their eyes met. Maria had found out a lot about agent Pieces since their last encounter. She knew about his former employers links to far right groups, about Piece’s ambitions, about his friendship with Kennedys & Ford. it was just possible that he was exactly what he was trying to appear to be. A young man who’d made some ill advised political decisions and now regretted them. A man who’d had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time twice. Or even that he was simply incompetent. 

She didn’t believe it for a second. 

“What I’m proposing is quite simple. This never happened. I don’t care how you explain it, accident in the lab for all I care. What I am saying is that this is forgotten, it never happened, there’s no action to try and remove Howard from the project, no santitions at all. You” She pointed one long red fingernail at Piece. “Just forget that anything happened.”

“General Groves_”

“Groves want this to go away as much as anyone. It reflects badly on him.” She shrugged. “Howard just wants to get back to work and for the good of the country I think he should be allowed to. He’s quite willing to put the whole incident behind him.” If it would let him, “Even Kutharapoolli isn’t particularly keen to have the matter investigated.” Mainly because she had hinted about his cousins links to the Independence Party in India. “He’s willing to withdraw his complaint to the British Ambassador over your handling of his questioning in return for an apology. Doesn’t even have to be sincere. And in return,” She leant forward. “I don’t blow the whistle on what I know. You rebuild your career as best you can. Maybe you even will get the head of the SSR job.”

Not while Maria had any influence he wouldn’t.

“Which certainly won’t happen if they find out you’re a traitor.”

“Treason is a matter of circumstances.” 

Maria smiled. “So’s truth.”

She picked up her gloves. “I trust we understand each other, Agent Piece?” 

She was on her feet and walking towards the door before he could answer. “Oh and Agent Piece? Just in case you get any ideas about accidents, I should warn you that I have told at least 12 people where I am and who I am going to meet.” She turned back and smiled at him. “The FBI have such nasty suspicious minds, don’t you find? Especially against organisations they think are poaching on their territory.”

She walked out into the burning sunshine.

************

He waited. He wasn’t sure for what.

What was an appropriate reaction to his confession? To hit him? To kill him? To walk away and leave him here?

He deserve them all and more. But though Stark’s face was pale, and the hand that poured some from the bottle into a paper cup shook slightly, there was no change in his expression, in his body language. 

“The Incident.” He said suddenly. “That was what Mom always called it. The Incident.” he shrugged. “She thought that Dad was mistaken, or that he’d got mixed up with something that happened earlier.”

Bucky managed to stop himself from saying he’d never do that. Because he had. It was no use arguing that he hadn’t being in his right mind, hadn’t being in control of his actions. He’d still done it. 

Stark pushed the cup of water across to him. He took it, uncertain of how to react. Was it poison? There were plenty that were clear, colourless and odourless, just like water. Was that Stark’s revenge?

Stark had gotten to his feet and was pacing across the room. He was muttering to himself. “...Keep him distracted, keep him occupied. Tasha? No, she’d tell him in an instant, think she owes him one because of Fury. Clint would do it. Got nearly as many…” He nodded, like he had made up his mind. Like he knew what he had to do.

“O.K.” Stark turned back to look at him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You were never here. I don’t know where you are, too much interference to try and track you.”

Bucky hadn’t quite expected that, but it made a degree of sense. He got to his feet.

“I’ll disappear.” He promised. “Steve will never find me.”

“Wrong pal.” Stark was staring at him. “Steve’s going to find you. or you’re going to find him, whichever suits you better. Just not yet.”

Bucky blinked. He’d being fairly sure that a condition of his release would be that he never saw Steve again. Never saw Hydra again. Just became like the ghost he had being.

Stark sighed. “O.K. I’m not sure how much you know about what’s being happening in the last couple of years, so I’ll made it simple. We screwed up. In New York and more recently in Washington. Not too badly, I mean it’s nothing I haven’t managed after a few martinis and a blowtorch, but I don’t turn into a giant green monster, or have a brother who destroys half the German forest or release government secrets on the internet. Well, not since I was 8 at least.” 

It was a normal situation to not understand what was going on in a Starks head, he supposed, but it had being nearly 60 years since then. 

Stark glanced at him. “You’re not getting this?”

Bucky shook his head. 

“O.K. I’ll spell it out. Congress wants to control the Avengers, wants to put legislation in place,”

It made sense, he supposed.

“Control us.”

“Steve won’t agree to it. Not after…” He trailed off.

“And from what I’ve read not before.” Stark shook his head. “I mean, I know Steve likes to portray himself as this good soldier, following orders. But let’s face it, he’s disobeyed practically every one they gave him.”

He nodded. 

“Problem is, that if we don’t agree, then they’ll come up with something worse. Something that’ll make what Hydra did to you” He tapped the table in front of Bucky, “look like an evening stroll. “ 

Bucky nodded again.

“So either Steve’s got to agree or Congress has to change their mind.” He glanced at Bucky. “You know him. Which one do you think is more likely?”

Bucky said nothing.

“So you stay off the grid until something happens. Something big enough for them to bring the plans into the open.”

Stark was pulling at his beard. Howard used to stroke his mustache under the same circumstances.

“You’ll be high on everyone’s lists. You know some guys pretty dirty secrets.”  
He shook his head. “I can’t remember.” It’s a lie, but it’s the safest one. He wishes he didn’t, but he remembers every one of his missions, every kill, every agent on both sides. 

Stark stared at him, his eyes saying he didn’t believe him. “Yeah well these guys aren’t big on taking chances.” He continued. “Steve’s being looking for you, he’s desperate, just got you back. He’s not going to let anyone take you. You’re Bucky, his best friend. His connection with his past. He’s not really thinking straight.”

Bucky nodded. it sounds plausible.

“He’ll go rogue rather than let them take you.” Stark shook his head. “That’s not good publicity. I mean you lose Captain America, that kind of makes sex tapes and your oldest friend committing suicide look like a parade. And Let's face it, a lot of people will be nervous about the legislation, about what it might mean. Cap’s a good rallying point, a good figure head. He’ll get people coming to him. I mean, Wolverine without a doubt unless the guy’s gone to ground, Most of the X Men probably. Langley definitely. Falcon…” He considered it for a moment, his head on one side. “Could go either way, but probably he’ll go with Cap. Doesn’t like me much.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “They’ll rally around Cap. Rhodey? He’ll be with me, no questions asked. Tasha? She’ll be with me too, too controlled to risk it all.Banner, Thor?” He shrugged. “Depends on how it’s pitched to them. Banner’s no love for the government, but too smart not see how it’ll pan out. And Thor… I mean the guy is literally a prince. Can’t go upsetting the forces of law and order. If we can really play it out, Wakanda…?”He shook his head.

“O.K. The community’s divided. Split in two. Massive fight between Cap and Me. Big enough that he’ll feel bad.” He clicked his fingers. “Have to pretend that stuff about my parents wasn’t in the files that Tash released. That I didn’t know. Add to his guilt over what happened to you.. A good excuse, Stark’s fucking ego, that’s why we can’t compromise.” He was waving his hands around, like a windmill. “You and Steve take off. The Avengers a split in two. Just a matter of time before someone does something. Something big. Something big enough that everyone has to unite. Government has to admit they are wrong!”

In Spite of everything, Bucky felt he had to interject. “You’re presuming I’ll go along with this.”

Stark raised an eyebrow that was so like his old man that it took his breathe away.  
“Why not? Nothing you haven't done before.” As Bucky continued to stare. “Yeah, Dad left some papers. You didn’t want to fight. Medical wanted to send you home. Dad and Phil have a talk with you, they were worried, I mean the only other subject of the serum has gone nuts and lost most his face, that doesn’t look good for the cameras. And you agreed to stay. To keep an eye on Steve.” 

Howard had offered money. more money than he’d earn in a lifetime. For Rebecca, make sure his little sister would always have food on the table, never have to eat bruised fruit and vegetable again. He’d agreed. Steve had wanted him. Had wanted him by his side. it had been easy.

Howard had called him Barnes. Had recognised him. When he saw the fist coming towards him, he’d looked almost...relieved. Like he was glad that his nightmare was over. 

He owed Stark. Owes him more than he can ever repay. 

“You’ll have to make it look good.” He said, quietly. “Steve will be watching closely.”

Stark snorted. “You killed my mom. Raped and Killed my father. Pulling punches isn’t going to be something you need to worry about.” 

He deserved that. Bucky nodded.

“I’m Sorry.”  
Stark snorted. “You and me both.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my explanation for Civil War. One of Tony Stark's plans, only it gets bit out of his control. It makes sense to me. I hope everyone has enjoyed this and will enjoy the sequel.


End file.
